


Paint the Town Red

by rowdyhooligan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Cunnilingus, Explicit Language, F/M, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 11:54:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16872465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowdyhooligan/pseuds/rowdyhooligan
Summary: Out for a night of relaxation, the reader runs into Demon!Dean, who’s more than willing to lend a hand.





	Paint the Town Red

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from tumblr: requested by @catsoftheapocalypse : if you still need prompting, how about… say… “a stranger comes into town”… sounds like it would suit dean…

He had the attention of the bar from the moment he walked in, and judging by the little smirk on his face, he knew it. Yours weren’t the only set of eyes to look him up and down; at least a dozen women- and quite a few men- were checking him out just as shamelessly as you were. Having lived in the same middle-of-nowhere town your entire life, you knew all the local boys and none of them looked like that. You watched him as he did a quick scan of the place. Despite the relaxed look on his face, you got the impression he didn’t miss a thing. Something about his eyes spoke of a hard life lived. Or maybe that was the second whiskey of the evening getting to you.

His eyes landed on you and he sauntered in your direction. You sent up a silent thank you that the bar stool to your right was empty. Making no move to disguise your interest, you kept your gaze focused on him. He moved with confidence, bow legs striding over smoothly. He beelined for the empty stool at your side, sidling up to the bar next to you. Getting the bartender’s attention, he gestured to your whiskey. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

The deep scrape of his voice was enough to send a thrill down your spine. That was a voice made for sin. It was all too easy to imagine that voice whispering in your ear, urging you to indulge in whatever you desired, with only your sheets and the deep velvet of midnight as witness. Judging from the blatant look of appreciation he eyed you with, that was looking like it might just be possible if you played your cards right.

The bartender set his glass in front of him, stopping when you ordered another. The dangerously handsome stranger beside you said, “Put it on my tab.”

“Thanks,” you said, turning toward him, eyeing him coyly.

“Of course,” he answered, leaning over to clink his glass against yours, “and to thank me, how about a name?”

Introducing yourself, you found out Mr. Mysterious’ name was Dean. The two of you struck up an easy conversation, both flirting shamelessly over multiple drinks. You’d come here to relax, and by god did Dean look like he could help you in that department. With those emerald green eyes and plush, pouty lips begging to be kissed, there was no doubt in your mind that he had quite a few notches in his belt. You were bored and horny, and his air of cockiness and confidence spoke of prowess. Yes, you were willing to bet Dean could definitely help you relax.

“So what brings you to town?”

“Just passing through and thought I’d stop and do a little sightseeing.”

“This is a pretty small town- there’s not much to see.”

Running his eyes down your body, he quipped, “I don’t know about that. From where I’m sitting there’s plenty I’d like to see.”

Biting down on your lip, you tried not to laugh, but couldn’t keep a straight face. Luckily, Dean didn’t seem too offended when you said chuckling, “That was a terrible pick-up line.”

He shot you a cheeky grin. “Damn, I’m gonna have to step it up then.”

Throwing caution to the wind, you reached over to squeeze his knee, running the toe of your shoe up his calf. “You don’t have to try too hard. I’m gonna level with you Dean- you’re hot and I’m interested. So what do you say we get out of here?”

Tossing back his whiskey, Dean slapped a few bills on the countertop, gripping your wrist in a firm hold. Tugging you off of your stool, he leaned forward to whisper in your ear. “I’ve got a better idea.”

Weaving through the tables and other patrons, Dean headed for the shadowy hall at the rear of the bar where the bathrooms were located. He slammed into the bathroom, the door bouncing off the tile with an echoing boom. Tugging you inside, he locked the door behind you, shoving your back against it and lunging for your mouth. This was a kiss, hard and demanding and everything you craved. Dean held nothing back, a hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, holding you steady as he ravaged your lips, the scrape of his stubble on your cheeks only adding to the feverish lust building in your core.

He broke away long enough to let you suck in a breath before diving back in again, taking your bottom lip between his and nipping harshly, soothing the sting away with a swipe of his tongue. With a keening whine, you sucked his tongue into your mouth, eager for more. Dean explored every nook and cranny with a groan, pressing his body tight against your own until there wasn’t an inch of space between you, his front molded to yours. The hard press of his erection dug into your stomach, earning another whine from you.

Tearing your mouth away, you panted out, “Fuck Dean, need you in me.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, we’ll get there,” he promised, voice pitching impossibly lower, “‘m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll be feeling me tomorrow.”

“Then get to it,” you sassed back, swatting his ass playfully.

Dean grunted, the low rumble sending another wave of slick arrowing straight to your core. Planting another hard kiss to your lips, he nibbled and licked his way across your jaw, every sinful scrape of his teeth along your skin turning your knees to jelly. Your head fell back against the door when he tugged at your earlobe, finding that spot just below your ear that always had you writhing. The man was an expert at playing your body, instinctively knowing exactly what you needed.

While his mouth was occupied with sucking a mark on your neck, his hands wormed their way between you, snaking under your shirt. His calloused fingers glided over the smooth, supple skin of your belly, tracing random patterns as he moved them up to your breasts. He palmed the soft flesh, rubbing his thumbs along your nipples roughly, pinching them through your bra. One of Dean’s legs wedged itself between your own, and you wasted no time rubbing yourself shamelessly on the coarse denim. You needed friction more than you needed your next breath.

“Oh yeah sweetheart, gonna make yourself come on my leg?” Dean teased darkly, “Go ahead. Fuck you look so good like this, you should see yourself. So desperate and aching that you need to rub yourself on my thigh. Come on princess, let me see you come just like that.”

Hips rutting harder against him, you chased your release, the pressure inside building higher and higher. Dean urged you on, whispering in your ear, telling you to go faster, how your smell drove him crazy, how he couldn’t wait to taste your slick on his tongue. Head falling forward, you buried your face in his shirt, fists bunching the fabric in a stranglehold, so close to climax you could practically taste it. When Dean latched onto the spot where your neck and shoulders met, sucking with all his might, you came with a cry, pussy walls fluttering as ecstasy flooded you.

Gradually your hips slowed to a stop and you struggled to suck in air, the scent of Dean’s cologne mingling with the smell of sex. Part of you couldn’t believe you’d just fucked yourself on his thigh. The rest of you was already aching for more. You shifted against him, jeans and panties sticking uncomfortably to your skin. Heat rushed to your face when you saw the wet spot left behind on Dean’s leg- you’d soaked through your clothes. Before you could feel embarrassed, Dean lifted his head from your neck; his green eyes were so blown with lust, in the dim light you could almost swear they were completely black. He dove for your mouth once more, kissing you fiercely.

“D’you know how fucking hot that was?” he growled against your lips. “Swear I almost fucking came just watching you. But I’m not coming until I’m buried inside you, ya got that? And neither are you- hope you enjoyed that one gorgeous, cuz it ain’t gonna happen again until I say so.”

He punctuated his words with a harsh tweak of your nipples, drawing a moan from your kiss-swollen lips. Dean grunted at the sound, tugging the cups of your bra down until your breasts spilled free. Feeling those rough, scarred hands covering you only fueled the fires already building. Releasing his shirt from the death grip you held it in, you pushed your hands under it, eagerly raking your nails up his stomach. His muscles jumped under your touch, and Dean rewarded you with another kiss.

When you tried to pull his shirt off over his head, he grabbed your wrists, pinning them to the door. “Nuh uh sweetheart, not yet.”

“But Dean-” you began in protest.

“Trust me, there’ll be time for that later. But right now, I’m dying to taste that pretty little pussy of yours. Keep those hands right where they are.”

With that, he dropped to his knees, hands going for the fly of your jeans. Seeing this gorgeous specimen of a man kneeling before you had you whimpering, fingers curling in anticipation. Dean tugged your jeans down to your knees, dragging your panties along with them. The hot puffs of his breath hitting your sopping folds sent a shiver down your spine. He nudge your legs as far apart as possible within the confines of your jeans. You bit your lip in anticipation, desperate to feel his mouth on you.

Dean looked up at you through the thick fringe of his lashes, winking cockily as he leaned forward, parting those plush lips. The first swipe of his tongue was enough to make your knees buckle, Dean’s hands quickly coming up to prop you firmly against the door. He held you in place as he ate you out like a starving man, every lick ripping a moan from you. The rough stubble of his jaw scratched at the soft skin of your inner thighs; you’d have a hell of a case of beard burn tomorrow, but it was worth it, so worth it, to have that clever tongue between your legs.

He lapped at you hungrily, licking up the slick of your previous release with noisy gusto. Swirling his tongue at your entrance, you mewled out his name when he dipped the tip of his tongue in briefly. Dean did it again and again, each time letting his tongue wriggle its way deeper. You reached down blindly with one hand, gripping ahold of those silky strands. He didn’t like that; lifting his head from your center, Dean grit out, “I said keep ‘em there.”

Forcing your hand back in place, you wiggled your hips demandingly. Dean nipped at your hipbone, planting an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh before diving back in. Your head thumped back against the door, moaning as quietly as possible. He was too good at this, every swipe of his tongue pushing you closer to another release. Dean used his thumbs to spread your folds, holding them open as he slurped up your slick. Everytime he moved, his nose would brush against your throbbing clit, teasing the swollen bud. You weren’t sure how much more you could take, the coil of need in your belly tightening almost to the breaking point.

Just as you were about to go tumbling into your second orgasm, Dean pulled away, pouty lips shining in the dim light. He ignored your cry of protest, eyes fluttering shut as he licked up every last trace of your wetness, with a groan. You watched him with lust glazed eyes, chest heaving and legs trembling. Lust punched through your gut at the sight of him so blatantly enjoying the taste of you.

“I could just devour you,” he growled, eyes snapping open to meet yours.

He was up on his feet before you could reply, spinning you around and slamming your hands against the door. Shoving your jeans and panties down to your ankles, he spread your legs as wide as possible, jerking your hips back until they notched squarely against his. His erection dug into small of your back, hot even through the layer of denim. There was a faint rustling behind you, the jingling of his belt and the sound of his zipper being lowered deafening in the charged atmosphere.

Glancing over your shoulder, you let out a whispered “fuck” when you caught sight of him; Dean was hung. He wasn’t the biggest you’d ever had, but he was thick. Just looking at him, you knew he was gonna stretch you wide, fill you to the brim. Your pussy throbbed in anticipation as he pulled a condom out of his back pocket, ripping open the foil impatiently. Biting your lip, you tried grinding back against him, letting out a surprised yelp when he swatted at your ass.

“Keep it up princess, and I’m gonna paint that ass red.”

Locking eyes with him, you did it again, gasping when he kept his word. His open palm came down heavily, the sharp bite of pain overridden by a jolt of pleasure. Gaze intense, he watched your face as he did it again and again, each slap getting you wetter. When he shifted to the other cheek, he wrapped his other hand around your front, stroking your clit in time to his blows. The double dose of pleasure had you clawing at the door in no time, slick coating your thighs. By the time he decided he’d had enough of teasing you, there was no doubt that you’d have trouble sitting the next day.

Gripping your hips roughly in one hand, Dean used the other to line himself up with your slit, rubbing the head of his cock along your entrance, coating it in your slick. Your mouth dropped open, back arching as he slowly pushed inside, not stopping until his hips were notched firmly against your ass. Breaths coming in harsh pants, you mewled at the sensation of being so full. You’d been right; Dean stretched you in ways no one ever had before. As wet as you were, there was still a slight burn as your pussy walls tried to accommodate his girth.

“You ok there sweetheart?” he grunted, voice strained.

“Fuck yeah,” you answered breathily, “I’m good. Need you to move Dean. Need you to fuck me.”

He laughed. “Hang on.”

He withdrew until only the head remained, the slow drag of his cock along your inner walls enough to have you moaning. With a quick snap of his hips, he thrust back in hard and fast, sending the air whooshing from your lungs. In no time at all he worked up a frantic rhythm, fucking into you like a man possessed. You had to bite down on your hand to keep from screaming his name, but that did nothing to stop the stream of moans and whimpers torn from your throat.

Under your shirt, free from the cups of your bra, your breasts swayed in time to his thrusts. It was hard to think, hard to breathe, all your thoughts focused on the way Dean’s fingers dug into your hips, the heavy weight of his balls slapping against your ass. The scent of sex and sweat and Dean hung heavy in the air, surrounding you and filling your senses until it was all you could smell, all you could taste. He snaked a hand under your shirt, grasping at your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipple.

He leaned over your back, gravelly voice growling filthy words, how good you felt wrapped around him, how wet and hot, positively burning for him. How he couldn’t wait to get you back to his motel room, where he could really have some fun with you. How good you looked and smelled and tasted, and he was gonna make you scream for him before the night was over. How he was going to fuck you until you couldn’t take anymore and were begging for rest. Each word was punctuated with a sharp thrust, driving you closer to the edge.

Your only warning was his hot breath puffing against the back of your neck before sharp teeth bit down and sucked hard, Dean’s mouth leaving his mark on your skin. The hand toying with your breasts dove for your clit, rubbing at you with fierce strokes. It was too much, and you came with a cry that couldn’t be suppressed, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you hit your release. Pleasure pulsed through you in time to your frantic heartbeat, spreading from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Your pussy clamped down on Dean’s cock, tightening around him in a vice-like hold. He didn’t let that slow him any, pounding into you just as hard as before. His cock thickened inside you, each thrust sloppier than the last. He was close.

Reaching back with one hand, you gripped onto his hair, tugging him away from your neck. Gasping, you said, “Come on Dean, come for me.”

With one, two, three more snaps of his hips, he did just that. Thrusting in to the hilt, he held himself still as he came with a groan of your name, cock twitching wildly as he filled the condom. Your walls clenched and release, clenched and released, milking him for all he had. You lost track of time as you both rode out your orgasms, panting and covered in sweat. You were far too confined by your clothes; they smothered you, clinging to your sticky skin as you struggled for breath.

Eventually, Dean pulled away, loosening his grip on you and withdrawing from your channel with a soft moan. You hissed at the sensation, pussy feeling far too empty without Dean there. Leaning your forehead against the door, you tried to calm your racing heart, barely registering his movements behind you as he disposed of the condom and cleaned himself up. It surprised you when he returned with some damp paper towels, cleaning you as well.

“Such a gentleman,” you teased weakly, voice scratchy and hoarse as you pulled your clothes back into place.

He grinned smugly, tossing the towels away before pulling you flush against him. Incredibly, you could feel his cock stirring already. Dean laughed outright at the look on your face, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. “I told you, I’m nowhere near done with you. Whaddya say we go and paint the town red, raise a little hell?”

“I say you’re on.”


End file.
